


a slow burning fuse

by bespokenboy



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Assassin AU, M/M, Smut, escort AU, implied sex for money, kind of mafia au??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 16:56:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4027660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bespokenboy/pseuds/bespokenboy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Contract killer Kim Jongin poses as a male escort in his attempt to assassinate Kim Joonmyun—and fails an assignment for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a slow burning fuse

Sex makes Joonmyun's cheeks glow like nothing else can. He's exhausted, but elated, filled with a strange aching happiness as he smiles up at the man who has tasted with his full red lips every inch of Joonmyun's body. This is the part where Jongin becomes a stranger again. He stares back down at Joonmyun with a guileless face so smooth, cool, and blank. Both of Jongin’s eyebrows are lifted in a transparent stare—his is a face of pure water. 

The strange thing about water is that it has no shape, you can pass your hand right through it, and yet it can kill you. 

Joonmyun is left alone on wrinkled sheets, bunched up in places where Jongin had fucked him into the mattress so hard it had Joonmyun grabbing fistfuls of the fabric just for something to hold onto. Across the room, Jongin is digging through Joonmyun's wallet for the blank check Joonmyun signs for him before each tryst. They both agreed that it would be easier this way. Little does Joonmyun know that Jongin rips each check to pieces every time he leaves their motel. 

A choked, pathetic noise comes out of Joonmyun's throat as Jongin's hand reaches for the doorknob. He looks back at Joonmyun's plaintive, dark eyes that tell him everything Joonmyun's mouth can't find the words for. Joonmyun wants him to stay so they can kiss each other endlessly and sleep nestled together like spoons, and they both know it. But even Joonmyun knows that it's impossible. 

The door closes, forming a wall between Joonmyun, who is lovesick for a man he knows he can never have, and Jongin, whose expected life span is abridged each time he leaves Joonmyun alive. 

Jongin is living by his wits and reputation at this point. A hired killer who can't do his job is a liability, more danger than what he's worth. There are two crosshairs now: one on Joonmyun's forehead, and another on Jongin's heart. 

Joonmyun is different from Jongin's usual targets, who generally pose some kind of threat to his clients. But Joonmyun is, more than anything, a bargaining chip in a deadly game of revenge. He's an accidental player in a game that he's completely unaware of. In fact, Jongin would be surprised if Joonmyun knew that his sister wasn't just an English tutor, but also a prominent dealer in an illicit arms trafficking cartel. 

A wave of Russian buyers entered the market a couple of years ago, and Kim Junhee slashed her prices before the rest of the cartel even had a chance to assess the sudden shift in demand. The market was a one-woman monopoly with millions of dollars funneling into Junhee's bank account until the others caught on and blacklisted her. For cheating, but also for being smarter than the rest of them. 

Since then, Junhee has been dodging attempts on her life and living quite leisurely while doing so. For her brother's safety, she keeps her moonlighting a secret, but she sends anonymous checks every week to ensure that he lives a normal, comfortable life. 

Junhee was always one stilettoed step ahead of the men running the arms trafficking cartel, until fresh blood entered the ring. 

Park Chanyeol took over his father's place at the head of the table after the old man died, and his first priority was to dispose of a few leftover dishes of revenge that had gone cold. He recognized that the best way to get Junhee was not by targeting her directly, but through her younger brother. Her only weakness, and a sitting duck no less. 

Enter Jongin and his contract to kill Kim Joonmyun, high school history teacher living on a mysterious inheritance and the most harmless man in the world. Jongin was given a flexible deadline, assured by Chanyeol that there was "really no rush." The look in Chanyeol's eye, however, reminded Jongin that nobody's patience is limitless—certainly not somebody as dangerous as Park Chanyeol. 

As he gathers his courage to kill Joonmyun once and for all, Jongin has been taking other clients in the meantime: those who want his body, and those who want his deadlier services. Sometimes both; Jongin is an expert in sordid business of all kinds. He is notorious by now, for his skill in seducing his way into any bed as well as for his immaculate kill record. He never says no to a contract because he knows he'll never fail. 

"I'm looking for a thrill tonight," a woman purrs into Jongin's ear as he stirs his glass of water with his straw, waiting for a new opportunity to present itself. He chose this bar for a reason; it's dim and busy enough for his sordid business to go unnoticed. 

"What kind?" he asks without looking up. He knows that clients don't like to have their faces seen, not unless it's absolutely necessary. 

"The kind that everyone walks away from alive. You up for it?"

Jongin feels her cool, smooth hand on top of his. He tenses momentarily, but she just links their fingers together comfortably, like they're a couple holding hands. He nods. 

"Let's get out of here," she suggests, and Jongin looks up at her dark eyes sparkling with mischief for the first time. 

The woman's long, honey blonde ringlets flounce behind her as she leads Jongin through the motel she picked out: flickering hallway lights and walls dark with grime. The slam of a door, click of a lock and Jongin is ready to carry out his usual routine. With hands on either side of her head, he traps her against the closed door. He leans in to kiss her, a hand sneaking up her thigh to slip under her lacy red dress. 

A loud, face-numbing _smack_ , and Jongin's staggering, stumbling backwards. He trips over a chair and lands squarely on his ass. The woman saunters over and pushes his back into the dubiously brown carpet, the point of her stiletto heel jutting into his chest. She's frowning as she tugs away her blonde wig, revealing a short brunette bob underneath. 

"I don't give a damn about what you do with your body or that you're getting paid for this, but you always ask for consent before touching someone, got it?" she scolds, tossing her head to loosen her curls. 

"Y-yes ma'am," Jongin stutters, suddenly bashful. 

"Anyways, even though I've heard of this area of your expertise, that's not why I wanted to meet with you today, Jongin."

Jongin blushes even harder at the allusion to his escort services. "Then why?"

"I've noticed that you've been messing around with my younger brother lately."

The dots connect, and Jongin realizes that he's staring up at Kim Junhee, who is internationally notorious in certain circles for being both vicious and drop-dead gorgeous. Jongin can see both sides of the coin. 

"How did you know?"

"Because Joonmyun said that he's been seeing someone named Jongin, but he would always make excuses when I asked if we could meet," Junhee explains, softening at the mention of her brother. She steps away and lends Jongin a hand, pulling him up to his feet. 

"And you automatically assumed that Jongin was me?" he asks weakly. 

"Call it a sister's intuition. Though I'm surprised you gave him your real name."

"He asked for it," Jongin mumbles. 

"And you just gave it to him? Interesting," Junhee muses. "He must mean something to you if you've trusted him with that information."

"I...guess..."

"He means a lot to me, just so you know. I'm going to be totally honest here. I'm not sure how you and Joonmyun came into contact, but he's from a completely different world than either of us. He doesn't know that I'm an arms dealer or that you kill people for a living, and I hope to keep it that way."

Jongin suddenly realizes that Junhee doesn't know, or she might not even suspect why Jongin has been sleeping with Joonmyun in the first place. Understandable, because this is so different from his usual style. He's never kept a target alive for so long; he's never needed to, or wanted to for that matter. It must look to Junhee like Joonmyun is simply a customer who has fallen in love with Jongin, or maybe his services. If Junhee suspected otherwise, there is no way Jongin is leaving this motel alive. 

Junhee tucks her hair back into her blonde wig, fixing the curls in the grimy bathroom mirror. She changes into a less ostentatious pair of black pumps and wraps a knee-length trench coat around herself as she tells Jongin, "I'm not the type to make threats, especially to people I might eventually become friends with. So I'm just asking you this: please keep my brother safe, because god knows I won't be able to all the time. I hope that the next time we meet, he'll be introducing you as his boyfriend."

"Wait, so you'd be okay if Joonmyun and I...?" Jongin asks without thinking. He knows already that a normal relationship is out of the question, for reasons neither of the siblings are aware of. 

"I'm not going to pass judgment on who Joonmyun falls in love with." Junhee smiles, though a little sadly. "I'm just happy that he's found someone who gives his life something to look forward to. His own words. Joonmyun doesn't fall in love easily, so either there really is something good between the two of you, or you're just really good at your job."

"Not as good as I'd like to be," Jongin says faintly. 

Junhee slips a wad of cash into Jongin's pocket in compensation for his time before she's out the door. It's more than Jongin would have made in one night with any of his regular customers, but he's just left feeling even more ensnared in his own web of deception. 

 

Meetings with Jongin always give Joonmyun that distinct thrill of catching a train he's always dreading will never show up. Sometimes Jongin's late, and by then, Joonmyun is a nervous wreck. And like a train, no matter how much Joonmyun tries to beg, Jongin is always leaving. 

The creak of a doorhinge, and Joonmyun's heart jumps to his throat. He's always afraid that that each time he sees Jongin will be his last. But the fear doesn't matter. Or rather, it does matter, because it just enhances the pleasure he feels with Jongin, the sense that they're making love on borrowed time. Although, fucking might be a better word for it.

Joonmyun's already undressed when Jongin arrives. He's curled up under the sheets, ivory skin swathed in ivory linens. Jongin slips the fabric off Joonmyun's shoulder to rest his sandpapery chin against Joonmyun's bare skin. 

"Can I kiss you?" Jongin murmurs in that bedroom voice of his: low, almost deep, with a rough, scraped overlay to it. His voice has Joonmyun shivering, and not just from the cold. 

He usually doesn't ask for permission, but the results are tangible: Joonmyun's heart pounds wildly like he's afraid, or in love. He sucks on Jongin's lips and his tongue, until Jongin pulls away once more. 

"Can I touch you?" Jongin asks, and Joonmyun nods. He needs this now more than he's needed anything, ever. 

But Jongin takes his time smoothing his hands over Joonmyun's skin, caramel against blushing vanilla, tracing over his ribs and feeling the spaces in between. Joonmyun's stomach caves in anticipation when Jongin's chin is on his navel, hands pinning him down by the hips. He's torn between wanting Jongin to finish the foreplay as quickly as possible and wishing this moment could last forever. 

Jongin's breath against Joonmyun's cock—a hot, quick puff of air—and Joonmyun realizes that Jongin's laughing as his lips brush against Joonmyun's rigid shaft. 

"You tease," Joonmyun takes the liberty to joke. Jongin knows exactly how to push Joonmyun to the very edge of ecstasy, retreating just enough to make him desperate. 

He does that now, teasing Joonmyun with his tongue from the juncture of his hip and thigh to the base of Joonmyun's cock. And then Joonmyun's being swallowed whole, his blunt fingertips biting into Jongin's firm shoulder blades. 

Joonmyun is released with a lewd smack of Jongin's lips at the cusp of his orgasm. He whines, digging his heels into the small of Jongin's back, but Jongin touches him with just two fingers now encircling Joonmyun's cock. Jongin feels that throb of warning under his fingertips and quickens his pace until Joonmyun is clutching at Jongin's wrist for him to stop. Aching with oversensitivity, Joonmyun pushes him away.

Jongin dips his fingertips into the creamy white liquid pooled on Joonmyun's stomach and feeds Joonmyun his own cum, letting him suck it off his fingers. Joonmyun holds onto Jongin's hand to keep it in place as he licks the crevices between the fingers, down to Jongin's palm, where he presses a soft kiss. 

"Thank you," Joonmyun whispers softly, but Jongin is suddenly too choked up to respond. 

After dribbling lube into his palm, Jongin prepares him with two fingers, and then three until Joonmyun's ready for Jongin to gather him into his arms like silk and sink into him. Joonmyun's gasping moans alternate with Jongin's tight-bodied grunts as he thrusts into him, reaching down to jerk Joonmyun off once again. 

Feverishly rutting up against Jongin, Joonmyun whispers something unintelligible that almost sounds like, " _I love you_." He convulses around Jongin's cock, and they're both pushed over the edge at the same time, holding onto each other in desperation. 

Before Jongin has a chance to veil his expression with a mask of indifference, Joonmyun buries his face against Jongin's neck and begs, "Please stay with me, just this once, _please_."

"Okay," Jongin agrees. "Okay."

Joonmyun's eyes widen in disbelief, and then he curls himself around Jongin's body extra snugly just to make sure he won't go back on his promise. 

Laughing lightly, Jongin trails his fingers through Joonmyun's soft, mussed hair and down the nape of his neck to rest his palm against Joonmyun's back. Jongin's touch is fiery, like flames licking on flesh, and it warms Joonmyun from the inside. 

"Jongin," Joonmyun says quietly, just to feel his name on his lips. There's an electric aura to the word, a blue neon halo like the "open" sign hanging outside the motel. 

"Joonmyun," Jongin murmurs in reply, and it's like a lullaby to Joonmyun's ears. "Joonmyun, Joonmyun, Joonmyun."

Jongin is lulled into carelessness, feeling Joonmyun's warm skin and playing with his hair. A delicious inertia takes ahold of Joonmyun, too, as he's cradled in Jongin's arms, kissing him and touching him like time doesn't exist. 

"Thank you," Joonmyun mumbles sleepily when he's on the verge of unconsciousness. Jongin doesn't respond, because he doesn't know why he's being thanked. 

 

"You were right about Jongin, I'll give you that," Junhee tells the man sitting on the barstool next to her. She has a fruity drink in hand, but it's untouched. The sugar gets the alcohol into her bloodstream quicker, and she needs to stay alert for this. 

"You wouldn't have been able to get ahold of him on your own, now, would you?" 

"Maybe not," Junhee admits begrudgingly. "You're a lot more cooperative than your old man, Mr. Park."

"Just call me Chanyeol, please," the man says charmingly. 

"Thanks for the tip-off about Jongin, Chanyeol. I must admit that I was surprised when you offered to help me find the guy my brother has been sneaking around with. I suppose I owe you one."

The pleasant grin on Chanyeol's face grows wider, until it's almost scary. "My old man and I aren't too different from each other, you know. He had a good memory, and so do I. Between the two of us, we've never forgotten a thing."

"Is that so?" Junhee asks politely, sensing danger underlying Chanyeol's light tone. 

She thought this meeting was to forge a new alliance between the two dealers, to do each other small favors that would possibly accumulate into a friendship of sorts. It's not uncommon in their business, but Junhee still should have known better. 

"This is old news by now, but I don't think you could have possibly forgotten how you cheated my father and his friends out of millions of dollars."

"Cheating? I recall that I was just a step ahead."

"Maybe your memory has just gone a bit fuzzy," Chanyeol suggests. His anger is apparent by now in the grit of his teeth and the tension in his neck. "Our kind of market only works through cooperation, and you didn't bother to consult the rest of us before adjusting your own prices. I'd call that cheating."

Junhee clutches her purse more tightly, in which a weapon is concealed, just in case. She doesn't like physical violence, but she'll resort to it if absolutely necessary. For now, however, she'll resort to playing the role of a scared and confused young woman. 

"Look, Chanyeol, I'm not established like your family is. Everything I do is for my brother and for the next generation of our family."

"I understand that. But what I'm offering you is a chance to make amends. With my family and everyone else you're no longer in good standing with."

"Oh?"

Chanyeol slides to her a scrap of paper with a number scrawled on it. "That's all I'm asking for. Give it to me in a timely fashion, and all your sins will be absolved."

"I'm sorry, this amount is simply out of the question," she says in a forcibly civil tone. 

"If you hadn't breached the trust of my father and everyone else in the business, I would be willing to negotiate."

 _Lose your temper, and you lose the argument_ , Junhee tells herself as she looks at the outrageous sum. It's clear to her that Chanyeol isn't simply looking for "compensation"; he means to bankrupt her. Men like him aren't easily appeased. 

"I see you can hold a pretty good grudge. Your father would be proud," Junhee observes coolly. 

"It's not about grudges, it's about justice."

He flashes her a reasonable smile, but Junhee can see the unsaid behind his expression, boiling slowly. 

"Well, it was nice doing business with you," Junhee says briskly, standing up and smoothing her skirt. 

There's no way she could give up everything she's worked for and all the sacrifices she's made to a bully like Chanyeol. She's put herself and her brother in so much danger already just by entering this line of business. It would all be wasted if she gave in to Chanyeol. 

"I'm sure you've figured it out by now, but it wasn't an accident that Jongin met your brother. In fact, Jongin was supposed to kill him their first night together, but he kept him alive for some reason. But it's all for the best. It gives me a chance to make this ultimatum: hand over all your assets, or Joonmyun dies tonight."

 

The mattress springs squeak like rats as they go at it like there's no tomorrow. For Joonmyun, there might not be a tomorrow. But he doesn't know that yet. Jongin fucks Joonmyun against the headboard mechanically—his mind's distracted, and his heart's a mess. 

A painting on the wall—cheap, colorful smudges—shivers in its frame, threatening to fall to the ground. 

"J-Jongin," Joonmyun whimpers, and Jongin stops immediately. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, worried. "Is this too much?"

"No, I just wanted to say that this feels so good, keep going."

"So you like it a little rough?" Jongin laughs. "Got it."

Joonmyun's body flashes hot all over, toes curling and body quivering. Jongin's hands on his waist keep him from collapsing, firm and protective and so warm. Joonmyun could kiss those hands forever, if Jongin let him. 

"You'll stay with me tonight, too?" Joonmyun asks. There's a note of fear and incredulity in his voice, like he's always afraid that Jongin will say no and always amazed that he doesn't. 

"Of course," Jongin says, but he feels only emptiness as he makes his promise. Tonight, he _has_ to stay. He won't be able to leave the motel room until Joonmyun is dead. 

"Thank you," Joonmyun murmurs against his chest. Jongin doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t deserve to be thanked. Not for what he’s about to do to Joonmyun.

Jongin tries his best to memorize how this all feels: the tickle of Joonmyun's breath against his bare skin, the heft of Joonmyun's body weighing on him, Joonmyun's smooth, hairless legs entangled with Jongin's. This may be the very last time he experiences it. 

Once he's sure that Joonmyun is completely asleep, Jongin slips out of the bed to change into his clothes. He doesn't want to dress afterwards with a corpse watching him from the bed. 

By the dim moonlight floating in through sheer curtains, Jongin watches Joonmyun's face, peaceful in sleep. He hopes it will be just as peaceful in death. 

If he doesn't kill Joonmyun with his own hands by midnight, the gunmen outside their motel room will barge in and slaughter them both. That was the bargain Chanyeol struck with him. The latter option, of course, would be the messier and less preferable of the two. Chanyeol had faith that Jongin would carry through with his end of the deal, with just a little added pressure to keep him motivated. 

Joonmyun is awoken by the feeling of Jongin's palm resting on his cheek. He keeps his eyes closed, hoping that it will keep Jongin from snatching his hand away in embarrassment. Jongin's hand passes over Joonmyun's face and then down his neck. It's like being caressed by water. 

A sudden tightening of fingers around Joonmyun's throat, and Joonmyun's eyes are flying open in confusion and alarm. 

"Jongin? W-what are you doing?" Joonmyun croaks, clutching desperately at Jongin's hands. 

"Deciding whether to kill you or to love you forever."

"The usual choices," Joonmyun laughs weakly. 

Jongin loosens his grip. He never planned on actually going through with the murder, even though it would have been the smarter, cleaner option. If Jongin killed Joonmyun himself, then at least one of them would walk out of the room alive. As tempted as he was by how much more efficient it would be to follow Chanyeol's orders, Jongin could never bring himself to kill Joonmyun. 

"Call your sister," Jongin whispers. "Tell her which room we're in. Tell her that we're being watched, tell her to _hurry_."

"Junhee?" Joonmyun asks dumbly. "What does Junhee–"

"Just call her, we don't have much time left."

"Hi, Junhee, it's–" Joonmyun begins. He pouts when Junhee interrupts, and he answers, "we're in room 114. Please hu–"

He frowns and says to Jongin, "She just hung up on me!"

"She must be on her way already," Jongin grins. "What a reliable sister."

A crack of thunder and a blinding streak of lightning outside reveal in a merciless flash Jongin's naked, frightened soul. "Shit," he mutters, shivering at the sound of thunder. "I almost thought that I heard...never mind, change quickly, and I'll explain what's happening."

Joonmyun fearfully obeys and discovers, to his horror and awe, what his sister has been up to when she hasn't been teaching English lessons. Somehow, she had kept it a secret from Joonmyun, thriving on her own skill and cunning. But now, the walls are apparently closing in on Junhee. 

"We've got to save her from Chanyeol," Joonmyun insists. "If that guy wants revenge on his father's behalf, he's gonna try to kill Junhee, right?"

"Yeah, about that. I'm still getting to that part. Chanyeol's the reason why you were involved in the first place. He hired me to kill you just to get back at your sister."

"Then why didn't you?" Joonmyun blanches, cowering away slightly from Jongin. "Won't he kill you if you don't? And if I'm dead...then that means he and Junhee will be even, right? And she won't be in danger anymore..."

"Joonmyun," he says firmly. "Your life is worth so much more than that. I've only met Junhee once, but I know that she'd do anything to protect you."

"But what about you? You didn't know me at all, so why did you keep me alive?"

"I...I don't know," Jongin admits. "Maybe it's because when I first saw you, I might have fallen a little bit in love with you?"

"God, I really hope we make it out of this room alive," Joonmyun says incredulously. He almost manages a wobbly smile. 

A sharp knock on the door, and Joonmyun grabs for Jongin's hand in terror. "Stay here," Jongin whispers, "they'll break in anyways if I don't answer the door. I'm so sorry. I love you."

More impatient knocks, and Jongin shakily makes his way across the room. Every muscle in his body is shaking, quivering with dread, and his bones feel too heavy and clumsy, like they’re cast in iron. Jongin finally understands the true meaning of helplessness as he reaches for the doorknob. 

"I hope everyone in here is wearing clothes," Junhee announces loudly as she pushes in past Jongin, nearly bulldozing him over with her stolen housekeeping trolley. 

"Junhee!" Joonmyun cries, running into his sister's arms. He holds onto her tightly, inhaling her familiar scent—it reminds him of safety, of family, of happiness. 

"It's okay," she murmurs, "I'm here now. But we don't have time, Chanyeol's men are coming in a few minutes."

He notices that she's wearing one of his old cosplay wigs, a blonde one with long curls. She also has on a maid uniform, stolen along with the trolley. 

"Can you and Jongin both squeeze in here?" She points to a compartment in the trolley. "I'll cover you up with towels, and we'll sneak out of here through the basement of the motel."

"These towels aren't clean, noona," Joonmyun whines from inside the trolley. 

"Quiet, kiddo," Junhee snaps. "Better than being dead."

Jongin's fingers gently stroking his hair keep Joonmyun calm as they make their escape in the cramped trolley. Likewise, the weight of Joonmyun in his lap keeps Jongin's nerves at bay. They’re silent, waiting, hoping that they will make it out of the motel alive. Joonmyun clamps a hand over his mouth to stay quiet through each bump and jerk of the trolley. The minutes spent in the dark, tight space seem to stretch on forever.

Joonmyun feels as though he's being forced by gunpoint into the present tense—thrown over a precipice and given the chance to fall or to fly. He was once content with small adventures of the spirit, but this is about living intentionally: stubbornly moving forward and surviving against all odds. It might have taken this brush with death for Joonmyun to realize just how good it feels to be alive.

Fresh air wafts in, and Junhee ushers the men hurriedly out of the housekeeping trolley and into her car. 

She tosses her keys to Joonmyun and says, "Can you drive us home? I have a few phone calls to make."

"Is it safe to go home? Are they going to come after us?" Joonmyun asks worriedly. 

"Long story short, I started a bar fight with Chanyeol, and it's amazing what some screams and tears can get people to believe. He's being detained by the police right now, but he's not going to stay behind bars unless I report the full story."

"What about his guys in the motel?"

"Those knuckleheads are too dumb to act on their own. And I'll make sure Chanyeol never gets the chance to boss them around anymore."

"But what if–"

"Shh, let noona take care of everything. My girlfriend is the district attorney, remember?"

"Are you going to tell Minah that you're an illegal arms trafficker?" Joonmyun asks, slowly starting to smile in relief. 

"I'll get to that eventually," Junhee scowls. The phone stops ringing on the other end, and Junhee tells the operator, "Yes, hello, I have several hundred counts of conspiracy, fraud, assault and battery, theft, and trafficking to report."

 

Jongin touches Joonmyun with new hands. No more fear, or secrets, though Joonmyun kisses Jongin back with just the slightest reservation betraying his wariness. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for everything I put you through," Jongin mumbles again, because no matter how much he apologizes, he'll never feel worthy of Joonmyun's love. Not knowing everything that could have happened. 

But when Joonmyun loves somebody, he loves unconditionally. "It's not your fault," he murmurs back. "It's nobody's fault. Kiss me again. I love you."

The thin barrier of clothing between their pounding chests vanishes with a rustle of fabric tossed onto the floor of Joonmyun's apartment. They're skin against skin now, but Joonmyun still tries to pull Jongin even closer. Their bodies are melting together, yet they can never be close enough—Joonmyun wants Jongin inside of, on top of, and all around him. 

Jongin isn't used to kissing like this. He gives kisses when people ask, or when he's bored. Never has he wanted so desperately to taste someone's mouth and tongue and skin. Even more so now that Joonmyun is his and he belongs to Joonmyun. 

"Can I sit in your lap this time?" Joonmyun asks breathlessly. 

"Y-yeah, sure," Jongin agrees, startled slightly by Joonmyun’s initiative. "Whatever you want."

Joonmyun is surprisingly assertive when he goes at his own pace—first tentatively moving his hips and then bouncing on Jongin's lap with wet, lazy slaps. Jongin is awarded with an eye-level view of Joonmyun's blown pupils and flushed cheeks and black strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Gasps and moans and the occasional whispered " _fuck_ " spill from Joonmyun’s pink lips slightly parted, inviting kisses. 

They hug and hold onto each other in the refractory period, Joonmyun still in Jongin's lap and contracting in pulses around his cock. 

"Just wait until Junhee gets home," Joonmyun teases, and Jongin makes a garbled noise in shock. "Just kidding, she has her own apartment. It's so cute, how you're so afraid of my sister."

"You're the cute one," Jongin grumbles childishly. He leans in to kiss Joonmyun, feeling him smile against his lips. 

"I love you," Joonmyun says seriously. "Not just this, but all of you. Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me," Jongin mutters, embarrassed by Joonmyun's sincerity. _I should be the one thanking you_ , he thinks but he doesn't have the courage to say it out loud. Not today, at least. 

"Let's go on a real date tomorrow. I'm thinking breakfast in bed, Sunday morning matinée, and then a picnic at the park?"

"I don’t know if I would be much fun. I haven't had much experience with...traditional dates."

"Well, do you like me?"

"Yes," Jongin says. It feels so good to answer without hesitation.

"I like you, too, so why the hell wouldn’t it be fun?" Joonmyun grins, and there's no way Jongin can say no. 

“Deal.”

Joonmyun wishes he could go over Jongin with a fine-toothed comb, turn him upside down and empty him out to see what other stories fall out. But getting to know Jongin, just like getting to know anybody else, is going to take time. As long as they're both alive and breathing and in love with each other, they might as well have all the time in the world.


End file.
